Intense, thought York. It was the second time today Julian Faulkner had been described that way. ‘What did he look like? Can you remember?’
‘Not really,’ the carer admitted. ‘He was fairly plain looking as I recall. I probably have a photograph of him somewhere. As part of the therapy here we take pictures of some of the patients with their family members to encourage familiarity. We show the patients the photographs and hope they can associate. It wasn’t very successful in Arthur’s case. He was still living in that POW camp, still is actually. He has no memory of having a son.’
‘Could I see the photographs?’
‘Aye,’ McCullick replied. ‘Not the case files, though. You’d need a court order for those.’
‘Just the photos.’
McCullick left the room and returned moments later with a large file, Arthur Faulkner stencilled neatly onto the front. Delving inside he dug out two snapshots and handed them over. ‘That’s Julian,’ he said pointing out the unsmiling man standing next to Arthur Faulkner. He was taller than his father, broader, wearing plain blue jeans and a white polo shirt. There was nothing joyous about the picture, only deeply etched sorrow of a broken family.
York froze. ‘Oh shit,’ he murmured.
‘What is it?’ asked McCullick. ‘You look like you’ve seen a ghost.’
‘Are you sure this is right?’
Hoping to god there was some kind of error he examined the photograph again, traced his finger along the tall man’s face.
‘Aye, that’s definitely him, no mistake. Like I said, I met him a few times.’
‘In that case,’ York muttered gravely, ‘I’m no longer chasing ghosts. This man is very real. And I know who he is.'
52
The Indian Ocean, 2011
‘Still no sign of Eric,’ said Abbey quietly.
‘He knew something was wrong last night,’ James said. ‘We need to find him soon, that front doesn’t look pretty.’
Following his edifying discussion with Danielle, Oli had surfaced and took over watch. During the switch the student had been completely non-responsive, his caramel skin ashen. He wouldn’t tell James what was wrong, only that he couldn’t stop throwing up. Afterwards, James had managed to get a solid three hours of sleep before Abbey woke him with fresh water and fresh concern. Hanging over the horizon was a thick bank of menacing cloud. In the last twenty minutes, it had grown larger. Or nearer.
‘If this storm is anything like the one that brought the plane down it’s going to rip the beach apart. The tents aren’t going to be any kind of shelter.’
Shuffling awkwardly from foot to foot, Abbey looked like she had something to say.
‘You alright?’ James asked.
She couldn’t meet his eyes. ‘About last night…’
‘Forget about it.’
‘I just want you to know that I’m sorry. I was tired, a little vulnerable, and I shouldn’t have put you in that position. But you know, if ever you need a late-night drinking partner again, I’d love to oblige.’
‘You have some competition,’ James revealed. ‘Just so you know.’ Abbey narrowed her eyes. ‘After you left, the girl came and sat with me for an hour. Her name’s Danielle. Apparently Eric’s been talking to her for a while.’
‘Are you serious?’
‘She’s intelligent,’ he added. ‘Quite the sassy little charmer.’
For the next couple of minutes he plugged some holes of information, filling Abbey in on Danielle's story. As he talked he realised how low he felt, the lowest since the crash. There was no one thing causing it. It was a general amalgamation of a mild hangover, the storm coming in, the missing survivors, Oli’s illness; all paled in comparison, though, to Abbey’s rejection. His heart felt flattened, his chest tight. Never in his adult life had he felt like this. It should have been liberating. Instead he felt trampled and discarded. He wanted to say what was really on his mind, what he really thought of Abbey. But when the full Danielle story was out, he clammed up, the words he wished he could say boxed securely somewhere in a remote corner of his littered mind, and without the correct key, that’s where they would stay.
*
Heading from tent to tent James woke Oli, Sebastian and Anthony. None were happy about it.
‘What’s going on, chief?’ Sebastian grumbled, flattening his hair and smoothing his crumpled grey suit.
‘Things to do, rise and shine!’
Crawling from his tent, Oli said, ‘Don’t you ever sleep?’
‘Half the survivors are out there in the jungle,’ James reminded them. ‘We don’t know where. Eric, Teri, Sol and Elaine are all missing. We need to find them, and as good a place as any to start is where Anthony last saw Elaine.’
Anthony rubbed the sleep from his eyes. ‘I can take you back there easy enough.’
‘Why now?’ Oli whined.
‘There’s a storm coming in,’ James revealed, hoisting a thumb over his shoulder. ‘When it hits we need to be undercover. The less exposed the better.’
They spent the next few minutes loading their packs with essentials and brushing their teeth, and then took for the trees in a jarred and despondent line, hours of unrest evident within each turgid step.
Once they were clear of the beach, James leading the expedition, Anthony caught up to him. ‘You think you know what you’re doing out here, don’t you?’
‘Not a clue,’ James replied boldly. ‘I just want to get these people home.’
‘There is no getting home,’ said Anthony ominously. ‘We’re all going to die here. I saw the proof for myself.’
James stopped.
‘What about you?’ Anthony went on. ‘Did anybody check your hands for blood?’
James met Anthony’s glare. ‘What are you saying?’
‘Nothing, pretty boy. Not a thing.’
‘You want to see my hands, you smug asshole! Huh? There, have a good look, tell me what you see.’
Holding eye contact resolutely, Anthony muttered, ‘I see guilt.’
‘You see hard work and effort, Anthony, nothing more!’
Catching up, Oli and Sebastian stepped into the stare-down.
‘What is this?’ said Oli gingerly. The kid had vomited twice since leaving the beach.
‘Nothing,’ said Anthony calmly. ‘Nothing at all.’
‘Good, cos’ I don’t like it out here, man!’
Taking the lead, Anthony pressed on without another word, leaving James unnerved. He loitered for a few seconds, tried to process the scarred man’s comments. Had he really become a suspect?
Expecting the trek to take them deeper into the jungle, they were no more than six or seven minutes from the camp when they entered the clearing. The barren area was small, no more than fifty feet around. Trees and boulders guarded the perimeter.
‘You sure this is the place, Anthony?’ James asked. ‘Doesn’t look like anybody’s been here to me.’
‘Agreed,’ said Sebastian. ‘We should probably keep going.’
‘Me and Abbey were behind those rocks. And this…’ he positioned himself on the opposite side of the clearing. ‘…this is where our boy was standing.’
‘And Elaine?’
‘She was here, on her knees. The killer looked right at us and jammed his knife into her throat. She went down heavy.’
‘Aren’t we missing the big picture here, chief? Call me old fashioned but I thought there was usually a body when somebody was murdered.’
‘And blood,’ James agreed.
Fresh from the bushes, Oli wiped his mouth. ‘We should keep moving. There’s nothing here.’
Pressing deeper into the trees, James took the rear. As the trek began turning arduous, his hopes of finding anyone diminished. Reiterating his thoughts, Sebastian said, ‘I don’t think anybody’s out here. They could be anywhere.’
‘We’ll search till we find them.’
‘You’ll search till you find them,’ said Anthony. ‘I’m going back.’
‘I hear that,’ said Sebastian.
‘You want to abandon the search?’ James griped. ‘Go ahead. When either of you goes missing, don’t expect us to look for you.’
Sebastian’s face turned serious. ‘Think about it, chief, Elaine was last seen way back near the beach. We must’ve walked two miles further. You think somebody carried her out here? Pardon my tactlessness, chief, but Elaine was no size eight. I couldn’t have brought her this far and neither could you.’
James nodded. 'You have a better idea?'
‘I say we head back this way.’ Sebastian pointed west. ‘That way we’ll cover one big triangle. When we hit the beach, we ride the coast back to camp.’
‘Fine,’ James conceded. ‘Take the lead and head west. We’re done here.’
‘Hallelujah,’ Oli spat. ‘Get me out of this sweat pit.’
Pushing through some dense bush, the student disappeared. Only his scream returned.
Scrambling in pursuit James dived through the foliage, arms raised prepared for attack. On the floor at his feet he found Oli, unharmed, next to more vomit.
Strung up before them between two trees was Teri, her tattooed chest on display, mauled. Her head hung forwards as if mounted on a broken spring.
Fighting down the bile James turned away, the excited buzz of flies feasting in the rancid heat.
Anthony and Sebastian joined the scene. Neither turned away, their eyes hazy in fascination.
‘Holy shit,’ the South African said at last. ‘Is that Teri?’
‘What’s left of her.’
Sebastian stepped closer. ‘What happened to her?’
As each of them examined Teri’s body more closely, it quickly became obvious what Sebastian was talking about. Right where the girl’s heart should be, there was nothing but a ragged hole, gaping and bloody. Oli retched again.
‘We’re going to need to cut her down.’
The student’s eyes widened. ‘Don’t look at me, man!’
‘We can’t leave her like this! It’s inhumane.’
‘Alright, alright’ Sebastian interrupted. ‘Anthony, you take that side, I’ll take this. Chief, you grab her legs. We passed a ditch back there, we can drop her in and cover her body.’
As they worked, Oli watched from a distance, his lips almost white. Nobody spoke. As they lowered Teri’s mutilated body into the ground with care, they covered her with whatever they could find. Finished, the four men stood gravely around the ditch.
‘Does anybody think we should say a prayer?’ Oli suggested.
Anthony’s head snapped up. ‘What did you say?’
James cringed.
‘Who do you think is up there?’ Anthony screamed. ‘Huh? You think anybody is saving us from this?’
‘Not everybody has to believe the same thing as you, Anthony!’ challenged Oli.
‘Take that back! You take that back right now.’
‘Leave it, Anthony,’ James interrupted. ‘The kid doesn’t mean any harm.’
‘No, man, fuck that!’ Oli protested. ‘I want to say a prayer for Teri. Who is Anthony to tell me I can’t?’
‘And who exactly is it you’ll be praying to, huh?’ said Anthony. ‘Jesus? God? Fucking Buddha? Tell me something, you little fuck…’
Lunging for the student Anthony caught him by the afro, jerking his head towards the pit. ‘…does your God allow that?’
Finalising the point, Oli was pitched to the ground and kicked squarely in the ribs. He rolled onto his side yelping in agony. James dived in, wrestled Anthony to the ground using his weight to stay his swinging arms. Playing gravity, Anthony tried to writhe free, his solid arms like pistons. Sinews taut in his neck, James held fast.
Oli climbed gingerly to his feet, gripping his side, and gradually Anthony realised the futility of the fight and began to calm.
‘Can I let you go?’ James panted.
Anthony didn’t reply. He simply laid still as if in response. Climbing slowly to his feet, James wiped the sweat from his face. He held out his hand to Anthony who openly ignored it.
‘Sebastian,’ James muttered. ‘Take Anthony and follow your triangle back to the beach. Oli and I will look further. Maybe Elaine is around here too.’
‘James,’ said Anthony menacingly, ‘I’m going to pretend for once like you are actually in charge and I’m going to go back to the beach. I’m kind of getting itchy around you, if you know what I mean.’
James didn’t.
Let’s just pray,’ added Anthony, ‘that you’re not next!’ and stalked off into the trees.
*
Having found no sign of Elaine, James and Oli arrived back at the camp in time to catch Abbey preparing the others for evacuation. In the last hour the clouds had become impenetrable, sunspots non-existent. The wind too had picked up, palms along the tree line being tugged by their tussled hair. Over the grey horizon clear sheets of tumbling rain fused the sea with the sky. They had thirty minutes at best.
Gathered around the extinguished campfire were the remaining survivors, Anthony and Sebastian too. Pushing in amongst solemn faces, James and Oli received a hug from Abbey and Danielle in turn.
‘Thank God,’ Abbey whispered into James’s ear. ‘I was beginning to wonder where you were.’
‘Wouldn’t miss this party.’
‘Is there a plan?’ she asked.
‘The caves above the lagoon. That’ll be the best shelter we’ll find. Eric still not come back?’
‘Haven’t seen him since last night! I feel like it’s my fault, James. I never should’ve blurted out what happened.’
He took her by the hand, cupping it in his own. ‘Eric will be fine,’ he said softly.
He turned to the others, only himself and five others present. Beneath his colourless complexion, only Oli looked worried.
‘Listen up,’ he called above the wind. ‘The storm’s about to hit. We’re going to follow the estuary to the lagoon and take shelter in the caves. For those of you coming along, grab what provisions you can and follow me…’ pausing, he locked eyes with Anthony. ‘…Anybody with a different agenda, good luck to you.’
53
Nobody stayed behind. As the first fat splodges had hit the beach the six survivors had fled into the jungle, following James’s lead. Laden with packs of bedding and food, they were prepared to get dug in for the night. Halfway to the lagoon, the downpour had hit. There had been no paced crescendo, no gradual increase. One second the drops had been widespread enough to dance between, the next, the sheer velocity of the driving torrents stung their heads and shoulders, the building gusts punishing their exposed skin. By the time they reached the lagoon, they were beaten and exhausted.
Upon entering the caves they had discovered a small network of tunnels leading from the sole entrance. A quick search had determined they were the only inhabitants on a human level, and they quickly chose a moderately dry chamber the size of a small bedroom. Finally they had built a fire and set it ablaze with scraps of salvaged clothing.
In the hours that followed, the storm escalated, the howling wind whistling in through the cracks hauntingly. The temperature dropped dramatically and lightning crashed down around them, followed closely by deep claps of rolling thunder. Each member of the party was huddled into corners, wrapped tightly in several layers, Danielle packed in against Abbey like they were joined in flesh. Everybody else found their own niche, relying on body heat to keep warm. Oli had improved some. Anthony remained ominously silent.
It was a long time before anybody mentioned those still out in the squall.
*
Surrounded by the dank, mildewed walls of the chamber James woke abruptly, sheathed in sweat. His dream had been of bodies and parts of bodies. He was thankful to be awake.
In the remaining firelight he could see Oli milling around, the sheer noiselessness of his actions lost in the trapped banshee of wind. The others seemed to be asleep, or so they feigned.
‘Oli?’ he muttered sle
epily. The student's frantic eyes stared back across the fire. ‘What’re you doing?’
‘I can’t just sit here while others are out there in this weather! I’m heading out to find them.’
From the student's tone, it was obvious he was not awaiting approval. Climbing to his feet James whispered, ‘You sure you want to go out there? It’s not just the elements you need to worry about.’
‘I know that,’ the student muttered. ‘But Eric’s out there. He’s alone, man. Probably scared out of his mind, the poor bastard. I need to find him, I owe him that much!’
‘You owe him?’
‘I’m going. You can’t stop me.’
‘Fine, then I’m going with you!’
‘You can’t go!’ cried Oli pointing out the others. ‘What about them?’
‘You should’ve thought about that beforehand. I’m not letting you go out there alone.’
‘I don’t need you, James.’
‘You think I care whether you need me?’
‘I’ll go with him,’ a third voice offered.
From the chamber’s deepest corner, Anthony rose to his feet and approached them. He didn’t look recently roused.
‘No!’ Oli insisted. ‘I don’t need either of you. You think I’m incapable, just some dumb kid, but you’re wrong. This is something I need to do alone.’
‘Nobody thinks that,’ said James. ‘But we all know what’s going on out there.’
‘Do we?’ Anthony said cryptically.
‘Look, Oli, people are dying around us. We don’t want to add you to that list. Some of us here care about you!’
‘You can’t change my mind,’ the student proclaimed softly. ‘I’ll be back before sunup.’ With no wish to argue further, he began towards the exit.
‘Oli,’ said James,’ ‘if you encounter any kind of trouble, anything at all, you get your ass back here, no questions. You’re not back by the time the storm stops, I’m coming for you.’
Hunting Abigail: Fight or Flight? For Abigail, it's both! Page 29
